The Game - Mavin AU - Part 1
by Maio123Maio
Summary: Michael Vincent Jones stumbles across "Lazer's Bar" one night, only hoping for food. But this is where he meets Gavin, and now he can't stop going back.
1. The Game - Mavin AU - Part 1

THE GAME

Michael Vincent Jones didn't do busy. He didn't appreciate busy malls, or busy restaurants, or busy movie theaters. He sulked through busy work days, and unlike most, he crossed out holidays on the calendar to pretend they didn't exist. Holidays meant busy. He actually enjoyed celebrating them alone, littering the room with ramen and chip bags. It wasn't unusual for him to wake up on December 26th and drag his hungover ass to work.

Because of this "busy hate,"Michael didn't much like bars. There was no fun in going alone just to drink; he much preferred the solitude of an Xbox controller in hand, a beer bottle between his knees, and a growl of gamer's frustration crawling up his throat. He tolerated bars if a few buddies wanted to get hammered, but lucky for him, Michael didn't have many friends. Therefore he could dodge out of almost every busy event normal people would have to deal with, and he liked it that way. Charming as Michael was, antisocial always won.

Unfortunately, it was December. Michael had enough people in his life that he felt obliged to shop for them, so he dragged himself to the one mall in Austin. He picked a Tuesday; in his experience, not many people shopped on Tuesday. The hellish crowd of cow-eyed people toting sobbing children, wrinkled shopping bags, and various levels of frustration nearly caused Michael to spin around in horror. He was quickly ushered in, though, by a merry, red and green clad elf advertising men's cologne. He smiled tightly until the speaker looked away, then allowed himself to be consumed by the masses. Biting his lip, he ducked throughout the mall quickly, leaving a few hours later when he noticed the dark sky. Glancing at his empty hands, he decided he'd stick to online shopping.

The evening had quickly turned into night while Michael was in the mall, and stepping outside, he was blasted with cold air. Most of the crowds had dispersed, and the sky, now nearly pitch black, held dark, full clouds. Michael eyed them nervously, trudging down the sidewalk past other shops closing for the night. He decided to get a bite to eat in the area, but remained indecisive until 15 minutes later when he reached the end of the walk. He'd never been this far down, and apparently neither had Austin Lighting Co., as the lamp posts had become more and more spread out. Shivering, Michael stared warily at the only lit place: a squat wooden building which emanated a golden, warm light. Its thick oak door had bells tied to the door knob, startling Michael as a couple walked out and jingled them. He watched them walk away.

The girl was a very pretty Asian woman, with dark hair and small eyes, lips stained red. She laughed and smacked the man's arm playfully, a hispanic guy with puffy black hair and thick rimmed glasses. Michael stared after them, then looked back at the wooden building. "Lazer's Bar" read the large, well lit sign on the roof. Michael sighed, then pushed the door open with a chime of bells. Warm air enveloped him as he gazed around the room with wonder.

It wasn't a typical Austin bar; no rowdy shoving matches, pool tables encircled by drunk girls and beefy guys, or loud, thumping music. Classic rock played softly through the speakers, and people chatted relatively quietly in their respective parts of the room. To the right of the door booths lined the wall, the seats in tattered, worn leather, and the tables of stained wood. A few girls were chatting in the corner; a lovely green eyed redhead with round features, a preppy blonde with short hair and deep brown eyes, and an older woman, with hair like straw. In the back of the room, a lone guy with brown hair anxiously twisted a gold band on his ring finger. Michael heard the door open behind him and he watched the guy shove the ring in his pocket, standing up and smiling with arms wide. A pale and pretty girl with golden hair ran in, giggling, blue eyes bright, embracing him. Knowing what was happening, Michael shook his head at the guy, who noticed and momentarily turned his eyes to the floor.

Up against the back wall, a few game machines sat with blinking lights: Donkey Kong, Dance Dance Revolution, and Michael's favorite, Pacman. A K-pop-like man danced with ease on one of the machines, completely unaware of his surroundings.

To the left of the door was a long, tavern-like bar manned by an inked male in his late thirties, early forties. He served everyone graciously, throwing in laughs. Michael barely noticed when the guy's eyes met Michael's.

"Gonna sit or somethin', dude?" the bartender asked, staring at Michael with a confused expression. "You been standin' there like a deer in the headlights for a solid 2 minutes." Michael nodded, laughing at himself.

"Sorry man, long day." he slid into a seat, one space away from people on either side, and used his finger to trace the ingrains on the table. The bartender eventually came over, smiling.

"Drink? I'm Geoff by the way."

"Ahh, whiskey? And I'm Michael." He extended a hand, shaking Geoff's. The guy quickly poured Michael's drink. Setting it down in front of him, Geoff leaned back on the cabinets behind him, gaze searching over Michael.

"Never seen you before. Which means you've never been here. What brings you?"

Michael tipped the bring back, taking a sip and cringing. He only drank whiskey on particularly bad days. "Food, actually. I just tried Christmas shopping." Michael scrunched up his face and Geoff laughed, reaching into a tall steel fridge, the most out-of-place thing in the bar. He pulled out a perfectly wrapped sandwich, sliding it to Michael.

"Shopping this close to Christmas? That's fucking dumb," Geoff said, laughing again in high-pitched wheezes and giggles. It was contagious, and Michael covered his hand, trying not to be rude. "Plus it's cold as dicks, dude!" Geoff pressed. "You crazy?" Michael shrugged.

"Probably. Didn't even buy anything, just stared at the new Xbox in a game store," Michael explained, and Geoff nodded, tutting in understanding.

"I gotcha man, no one has any fuckin' money for that. My 360 will have to last." Geoff walked away, leaving Michael to his drink, which he sipped slowly. He hummed quietly under his breath to the music, enjoying the steady buzz of chatter going on around him. He sucked the rest of the drink down, tapping it on the counter.

"Another one, Geo-,"

"Woah!" Michael heard a yell from behind him, and before he could react a shatter of glass sounded in his ears. Michael cringed, slowly turning and facing a twenty-something who looked more amused than anything. His sandy brown hair puffed out wildly, scruffy short beard framing his childish smile.

"Oh c'mon! Gavin you piece of shit I told you it was time to cut you off." Geoff cried, rushing from behind the bar with a broom, while the younger guy, Gavin, exploded into laughter. Michael watched him cautiously, and the man turned to him.

"Hello, there," he waved, and Michael waved back sheepishly before turning away, looking down at his two words sounded much prettier with an English accent.

Michael felt someone lean against him, then plop down into the seat to his left in a fit of giggles. Sitting up straighter, Michael cleared his throat. "You're, uh, Gavin, right?"

The alcohol pinkened cheeks made the Brit look younger as he nodded, grinning stupidly. "Gavvy Gav Gavvers. Vav I am. Gavino. And you," Gavin paused, picking up a finger and booping Michael's nose. "Are Michael. Micoo Micoo Micoo. I heard you talking to Geoff." He sat back in his seat again, trying to regain his breath. Michael spun his stool around and looked at Geoff.

"He a regular?"

"Yeah, and my damn roommate." Geoff growled. "Can't trust him at home, can't trust him here." The soft clinking of glass filled the following silence as Geoff brushed it into a trash bag. "Can I ask you a favor, Michael?" Geoff sounded exhausted, and Michael nodded.

"Fill that with ice water," Geoff said, pointing to a bucket behind the bar. Michael stood, getting the bucket and starting to fill it up under the tap.

"What's it for, Geoff?" Michael inquired, the bucket nearly half full.

"Just dunk his head in it," Geoff gestured to Gavin, then left to take the trash bag out back. Michael looked around nervously. The bar was now mostly vacant, aside from a disheveled, dark-haired man with a name tag that read Joel on his blue overalls. The man simply said, "I've done it before. It's like initiation into this bar."

Michael heaved the bucket onto the counter next to Gavin's head, which startled him from a slumber. He wiped a hand across his mouth to get the drool away. Michael quickly walked around to the other side of the bar, stood the Brit up, and with a hand tangled in his hair, dunked him. He quickly pulled him out, and with a shriek Gavin fell back onto the floor.

"Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks, Michael!"

Michael resisted the urge to dump the whole bucket on Gavin's head, draining it in the sink and setting it on the ground. He leaned across the bar, staring down at Gavin on the ground. "Gonna get up?"

Gavin scowled, pushing off the ground and jumping up. He immediately fell back over, lying on the ground in defeat. Michael threw his head back, pointing and laughing. "You're so fucking dumb!" He grabbed his stomach, trying to regain breath, but the sight of the soaked and angry Brit sent him howling again.

"Shut up!" Gavin grumbled, carefully pulling himself up. He sunk down onto a seat, and Michael grinned at him across the bar as Geoff came back inside.

"Fuck, it's cold," he mumbled, shrugging his light coat off his shoulders and tossing it on a vacant booth. He raised a brow at Michael and Gavin, who were staring at each other. "Hey, love birds! Knock it off. Michael, get out from behind the bar." Geoff shuffled over, letting Michael out and waiting for him to sit down.

The ringing of the bells signified the opening of the door, and all three men turned to face the newcomers. A few people bustled in, sitting down at a booth and waving to Geoff. He grinned, walking over. "Burnie, Ashley, Matt! Long time, no see." He went and sat down with them, too far away now for Michael to hear, so he turned back to a sobered Gavin, who was looking at Michael and smiling. Michael quirked an eyebrow, and Gavin looked down, still smiling.

"Tell me about yourself, Michael. What brings you to this bar?" Gavin made a wide sweeping motion with his hands. Michael bit the inside of his cheek, looking at the ceiling and thinking.

"Christmas shopping, needed food," Michael shrugged, then reached forward, having remembered the sandwich Geoff had handed him earlier. Gavin shook his head as Michael unwrapped it.

"No, no. What brought you all the way here," Gavin pointed at Michael, then the table. "Right to this moment. Your life."

Michael smiled at the thought of this deep question, unexpected for someone who'd been completely smashed not ten minutes ago.

"Well, I grew up in Jersey, and moved out here just a few years ago," Michael explained.

"For school? Work?"

"For change," Michael shrugged, looking down. "I'm just an electrician. Nothing special, really." When he looked up, Gavin had furrowed his brow. "What?"

Gavin opened his mouth a few times as if to say something, then shook his head. "Go on."

"Actually that's about it." Michael took a bite of his sandwich and sighed happily, looking at Gavin."You? You're obviously not from the States."

Gavin smiled, looking at nothing in particular. "I used to do camera work, which eventually brought me here. I met Geoff, we became roomies, now he can't get rid of me." Gavin winked, making Michael blush, though he didn't know why.

"You said used to. Not anymore?" Michael leaned forward, curious.

"You're a questioning little boy, aren't you?" Gavin teased. Chuckling he looked up at Michael, meeting his eyes. "No, not anymore." Michael didn't press it.

Michael would never admit it, but he liked being next to Gavin, despite the fact that they'd been strangers not an hour ago. Now, the men sat in silence, heads slightly bowed towards each other, shoulders brushing. Michael watched with amusement at Gavin's restlessness, constantly kicking his feet under the table, drumming the rim of a coaster, or tapping a finger on his nose as if deep in thought. He watched Gavin lazily, observing little features like these, trying to map out who Gavin was.

"Three a.m. I'm closing up, guys," Geoff called, as his friends exited. Standing up, Michael put a $20 on the counter.

"Nice meeting you guys, thanks for the...yeah just...thanks." Michael waved awkwardly on the way out. Stepping into the cold, he stood under a lone, flickering lamp and dialed a taxi. When the driver picked him up, Michael watched the bar till he couldn't see it anymore, then faced forward and fell asleep against the window.


	2. The Game - Mavin AU - Part 2

Michael sat, slumped over his phone on the coffee table, crinkling a piece of paper in his hand. He bit his lip, staring out the window as puffy white flurries danced against the night sky. The sight made him shiver, and he tightened his grip on the blanket he'd draped over his shoulders.

"You met them last fucking night, Michael," he mumbled to himself. He ran his free hand through his hair, a nervous habit, and closed his eyes tight, frowning. "They're gonna think you're a fucking stalker freak."

He picked up the phone anyway.

Flattening the paper in his hand, he called the taxi service, telling them where he wanted to go. Fifteen minutes later, he slipped into his puffy winter coat, headed outside of his apartment, and got in the yellow car.

"Seems a bit stormy to be going anywhere, eh?" the taxi driver asked, pulling out of the driveway. The guy seemed familiar, and Michael wondered if he'd been driven by him before.

"I just want a ride. Not judgement," Michael said gruffly. The driver chuckled.

"I'm not judging, man. I saw you at Lazer's yesterday. Name's Joel."

Michael sat up. "Oh! Sorry dude. I knew I recognized you, too. I'm Michael." He sighed, leaning back on his chair, silently cursing himself for being so tense.

"Nah, it's fine, man. I should've said something earlier," Joel said, turning down the radio to a quiet hum. Michael shook his head, but didn't say anything.

"How many people are out? I doubt many because of the snow," Michael wanted to engage Joel in a conversation. He had a few questions.

"Eh, a few. You're my first, but only about 15 people total have asked for our services. What have you been up to today?"

"It was actually a pretty chill day," Michael said, recalling with a smile. "No work, so I got to sleep for a few extra hours. Gamed for a while, too."

At that, Joel perked up.

"You game?" He asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. Michael grinned.

"Do I game? Fuck yeah, dude. It's one of the only things I really give a shit about."

Michael and Joel chatted for most of the ride about games, laughing about dumb in-game mistakes. Suddenly, Michael cleared his throat.

"Do you, uh, know anything about Geoff? I didn't really get a chance to chat with the guy, but he seems like a cool dude," Michael leaned forward in his seat when he asked the question. Joel tipped his head to the side as if thinking, then chuckled. Michael cocked an eyebrow.

"There is one story Gavin told me. He gets drunk a lot, so I know a lot, y'know? Well I guess Geoff was leaving the bar, but he'd been drinking. A lot. He and Gavin were waiting for the taxi, and Geoff was dancing around, havin' a real good time, when the taxi pulled up and did a little honk. It scared Geoff so much he ran into the wall of the bar."

"The image in my mind is priceless," Michael laughed. "Wait, if Geoff was hammered, who was running the bar?"

"Oh," Joel nodded. "That'd be Ray. He works every day, like Geoff, but I think he was sick yesterday. You'll meet him if you keep coming. He's a really good guy." Michael bit his lip.

"And, uh, you know anything about Gavin? Just wondering," Michael asked sheepishly, trying to be nonchalant.

Joel smiled but didn't respond, turning onto the dark street. Michael tried to hide a smile as they approached the bar.

"You gonna be here long? Might see ya." Joel asked, turning around to face Michael as he stopped. The glowing lights of the bar spilled out onto the street, lighting up the men's faces. Michael peered into the windows from the taxi, seeing Geoff and Gavin chatting, the Brit at least looking sober.

"I'll be here," Michael replied, paying quickly by forking over $30 more than he owed. He stepped out into the falling snow, boots crunching on the ice. Carefully making his way to the door, he cleaned off his glasses, took a deep breath, and opened the door, walking inside.

The immediate warmth made him smile happily. The door's jingling bells gave him away, and both Geoff and Gavin turned to see who'd come in. A pair of surprised grins met him.

"Michael!" Gavin cheered, patting the seat next to him. Beaming, Michael sat, and the Brit bumped him with his shoulder. "Knew you'd be back, boi."

Throughout the evening, the two men talked, getting drunker and laughing louder. Though neither would say anything, they were also getting closer; leaning on one another, brushing hands every so often.

"What if," Gavin slurred. "What if you outran your legs?" Gavin's eyes widened as if the question really mattered.

"You fucking moron!" Michael crowed, nudging the other man with his shoulder. "What does that even mean?" He bent over from laughter, trying to catch his breath while Gavin struggled to explain.

"Like, you were too fast for your legs! I'd imagine you'd just...fall over, right?" Gavin inquired, looking up at Michael, whose face was red from laughing.

"Shut the fuck up, dude," Michael chuckled, finishing off his sixth beer. He said. He let it clink onto the counter loudly, too intoxicated to care. His eyes roamed the room lazily, sometimes catching those of others. Joel had come in earlier, but he must have left, because his seat was vacant. Michael pushed his hand through his hair, closing his eyes and smiling. He turned to Gavin and was startled to find that Gavin was intently watching him with a small smile playing on his lips.

"What?" Michael asked accusingly, scanning the Brit's face and taking a sip of his next beer. Gavin smiled more, not breaking Michael's gaze.

"Nothing," he giggled, and Michael frowned.

"Don't fucking do that, asshole. What?" Michael growled. He was never a patient one, especially when curious, and it only further amused Gavin. He sipped at his beer again.

"You're cute."

Michael choked on his drink, coughing and spluttering as he set it down.

"I'm what?" He asked, incredulous. Gavin smirked, taking a sip of his own beer. Michael narrowed his eyes at him, turning away from Gavin as a flush crept up into his cheeks.

"You're," Gavin said, enunciating. "Cute."

Michael stared at the table, eyes wide, and told his face not to blush. He looked sideways at Gavin, who was tapping the side of his beer, mouth turned up ever so slightly in the corners.

A commotion could be heard in the back, and Gavin's head flicked up. Michael followed Gavin's gaze to the back door as it busted wide open. With a yell, a young black haired guy with thick rimmed glasses jumped in.

"Puerto Rican in the HOUSE!"

Gavin jumped out of his seat, throwing his fists in the air. The two man ran at each other, high-fiving as they went past. They looped around and embraced, both smiling. Michael felt a twinge of jealousy—friendship jealousy, he convinced himself—and looked away. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his face up to Gavin, who was grinning down at him.

"Michael! This is Ray," he gestured to the man who was next to Gavin. Ray gave an awkward wave, and Michael returned it, both men looking to the side.

"Hi Ray. You work here, right?" Michael asked to break the silence. Ray nodded enthusiastically, looking relieved that Michael had started the conversation.

"That I do. It's great here," Ray waved to Geoff, who tapped his foot impatiently. "Boss man says I gotta go. Nice meeting you!" Ray jogged towards Geoff, who led him into the kitchen area where Michael could no longer see them. Michael faced Gavin again, who'd sat back down.

"You guys are friendly," Michael noted. Gavin shrugged, looking towards the kitchen.

"He's my best friend. Really good guy, not always that loud," Gavin shrugged again, beaming at Michael. "You're different than him, though. I'm really liking it." At the compliment, Michael flushed red, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders he hadn't noticed before. Gavin brushed his hand over Michael's for a sweet, fleeting second, then turned away, yelling to Geoff in the back for another drink.

When Michael's heart slowed down, he looked down at his watch and groaned.

"Dude, I gotta go. I work tomorrow," Michael explained when he saw Gavin's confused look. Standing, Michael shrugged back into his puffy coat, and Gavin crossed his arms, pouting.

"You haven't even been here very long! Miiiicoooo!" he whined, which earned an amused smile from Michael.

"I've been here for," Michael check his watch again, eyes widening. "6 hours. Asshole," He chuckled, patting Gavin on the shoulder. Before he could pull his hand away, Gavin grabbed it, and stared up at him.

"You'll come back tomorrow, right boi?" Gavin looked like a sad puppy, and Michael felt a little pang. Nodding, Michael tried to pull his hand away, but Gavin squeezed tighter. "Promise?"

"Sure, dude, promise," he rolled his eyes, trying to hide how happy he was. He was wanted. Reassured, Gavin let Michael's hand go, waving. He watched Michael walk out the door, sighing, and turned back to his drink.

Michael exhaled as he walked outside, a cloud of white puffing from his mouth. He shoved his hands into his pockets, digging around for his phone. Drunk, his fingers failed him, and he dropped his phone as he pulled it out.

"Fucking piece of shit!" He wailed, staring at the shattered screen on the ground. Too tired to do anything else, he kicked it across the street and sunk down to his knees. Moving to a cross-legged position, he leaned against the bar. He heard the jingling of the door, and turned to see who was leaving.

"Took a little tumble, there," Gavin stood above him, smirking with an outstretched hand. Michael scowled, not taking it and choosing to push himself up, hands sinking into the snow. He awkwardly scrambled to a stand, blushing while Gavin tried to hide a laugh. Trying to stabilize himself, Michael stepped right onto a patch of slippery ice.

"Shit!" he yelled as he fell. Suddenly, Gavin's arm were underneath, one around his waist, the other behind his neck, and he was propped back up. Michael looked at Gavin, eyes wide. "Drunk reflexes are not a thing, how did you..?"

Chuckling, Gavin shrugged. "I knew you'd probably fall again," he explained, grinning. Michael shoved him, folding his arms.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" Michael growled, glaring at Gavin.

"I'm your fucking idiot though, aren't I?"

"I met you yesterday!" Michael smiled at Gavin, who frowned.

"What, and this," Gavin gestured up and down his body, wiggling his eyebrows, "didn't convince you the second you saw me?" Michael howled with laughter, startling a few smokers outside another bar. Gavin knitted his brows, reaching his bare hands down into the snow.

Thump!

Michael stared at his chest, where pieces of broken snow stuck to his coat. Gavin covered his mouth with a hand, giggling.

"Oh, big fucking mistake, Gav," Michael snarled, scooping a ball of white into his fists. Gavin's smile quickly turned into a look of horror.

"Micool, no!" Gavin cried, spinning on his heel and running down the road. Pulling his arm back, Michael whipped the snowball at the Brit's back. It exploded between his shoulder blades, spraying into Gavin's hair and down his body. "Micool, you bastard! It's gone down my trousers!"

Michael hadn't laughed so much in a while. His lungs were on fire from the cold, only making it harder to regain breath. The next thirty minutes consisted of the two grown-ass men chasing each other around with snowballs. When things started winding down, Michael tackled Gavin into a pile of snow, causing it to puff up around them. Their heavy breathing mingled together, deep and ragged. Michael kept his arms around Gavin, and they both watched the flakes cascade around them. Eventually, Gavin nodded off in the cold, and Michael nudged him awake. He led him inside to Geoff, who settled him into a booth. Michael turned to leave, standing in the doorway and watching Gavin curl into a ball. Smiling, Michael exited the bar, put money into a payphone, and called for his ride home.


End file.
